


Seven Ties

by ingberry



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingberry/pseuds/ingberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Merlin have been together for two months when Arthur goes on a one week business trip. It's not like they miss each other or anything. That would be ridiculous. They've only been together for eight weeks so why should one week apart be any problem, really? It's totally fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Ties

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Семь галстуков](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043221) by [Wintersnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintersnow/pseuds/Wintersnow)
  * Translation into Español available: [Siete Corbatas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1385434) by [HeyDagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyDagger/pseuds/HeyDagger)



> So this is one of those procrastination fics where you're supposed to be writing this one thing, but then you write 2k in one evening on something else entirely. And that something else entirely is this fic. So this happened. 
> 
> (Apologies for any mistakes!)

Ungodly pain shoots through his leg as Arthur rams his toe into the edge of the bed for the second time in as many days. He swears forcefully as he fumbles for the light switch. Hotels are bloody pests. Light finally makes it possible to navigate the tiny room (it has to be the smallest they’ve got which Arthur thinks is _very_ unreasonable considering how much money this conference must be bringing them) and he flops down onto the bed, yanking at the tie that has felt like a noose around his neck throughout the meetings. 

He doesn’t understand why ties are even a thing. Who cares about trying to choke yourself with a swath of fabric? It’s _unnatural_. Arthur has rebelled by never bothering to learn how to tie them, so the number one criteria for potential boyfriends had always been: 1) Knowing how to tie a tie. 

Now, Merlin _hadn’t_ known how to tie them because he wouldn’t be caught dead in one, but he’s very good at finding tutorials on youtube. 

Arthur looks over the suitcase open on the floor and smiles at the pre-tied ties lined up inside – one for each day of the week he’s staying and each one with a little note attached. That would have been frighteningly romantic if the notes hadn’t said stuff like ‘Don’t choke on the crab cakes’ and ‘Punch a posh git in the face for me’. 

He’s on the third tie with four ties – and days – left to go. As he stares at the notes written in Merlin’s slightly sloppy handwriting, he tries to not think about being gone. He’s never even minded it much. True, he thinks hotels are the devil’s lair, but other than that it’s always been fine. 

But he’s only been dating Merlin for two months, so it’s _ridiculous_ that he should even miss that lanky, accident-prone bed-hogger enough to want to get on a train right now and give everyone else the finger. 

Not that he wants to do that. Because he doesn’t. 

“Hey,” he says into the phone before he realises he’s dialled the number. 

“Oh! Arthur!” Merlin says, sounding distracted. “Didn’t think you’d call so soon.”

“Uh, well, it’s been three days.”

There’s rustling on the other end. “Oh, I suppose it has.”

“Had you gone to bed? Did I wake you?” Arthur asks, frowning up at the ceiling. “You sound strange.”

Merlin laughs. “It’s only seven.”

“Oh, I guess it is.” Arthur looks at the alarm clock on the bedside table and next to it is the thumb ring that Merlin had kissed softly the night before he left. He’d had a look in his eyes that had nearly made it impossible to breathe. “I’m knackered.”

“Yeah, I suppose there’s a lot of... money to push around. And champagne to drink.”

“Shut up,” Arthur says, half-amused and half-indignant. “I don’t work at the Playboy Mansion.”

“Might as well,” Merlin says and Arthur imagines the corner of his eyes are crinkling good naturedly, but without the obvious fondness in Merlin’s expression Arthur feels kind of lost in the conversation. 

It’s quiet for a bit as Arthur looks for something safe to talk about – something that isn’t ‘I want your lips on my cock’ or ‘I miss the way your feet are always freezing’. 

“Look, I’ve got to run,” Merlin says and Arthur grips his phone harder. “Promised Gwaine I’d go to the pubs with him and he’ll be here in a sec.”

“Yeah.” Arthur’s mouth feels dry. “Have fun.”

“You can go back to your regularly scheduled soul-sucking now.”

Not that Arthur wanted an ode to his sun-kissed, fluffy hair, but that’s the shittiest ending to a phone call he’s ever had. And that includes ‘Thank you for answering our customer survey, have a nice day.’

***

Tie number four comes off and he throws it into the open suitcase. Good riddance. It’s been a terrible day and he doesn’t really want to analyse why that is. Instead he puts the TV on, letting it play some string of current pop hits at him as he tries to not look at his phone.

Arthur knows he’s a git, though. They’ve only dated for two months and they haven’t known each other much longer than that, so it’s ridiculous to expect Merlin to put his life on hold just because Arthur’s gone for the week. 

When he finally reaches for the phone there’s one missed call from Gwaine and one new voice message. Arthur shrugs out of his jacket and put the phone on speaker, throwing it back onto the bed as he reaches for his tooth brush. 

The message is from 10:37 AM, back when Arthur had been stuck in endless meetings, and Gwaine’s voice sounds like something crawled into his throat and tried to scratch its way out. 

“ _Arthur, mate. Will you get the fuck back here? Do you know how many times I’ve been to the pub this week? This is the third day in a row and you’ve only been gone for three days. Your boyfriend is driving me fucking insane; I might actually strangle him with my bare hands. And last night he spent five hours_ angsting _about how you called him and the last thing he said to you was that you should get back to your soul-sucking._

_“Fucking hell, it just went on and on. ‘What if he dies, Gwaine? What if he_ dies _and the last thing I told him was that he sucks souls for a living? I’m pretty sure they could charge me for murder.’ I’m not babysitting him anymore. I pawned him off on Gwen and she just laughed at me, being all ‘oh, Merlin is so cute – he’s like a baby elephant.’ Not that I know what_ that’s _got to do with anything. Oh, fucking hell, my toast. Fuck you._

_“Come home. Fuck.”_

Arthur stares at the phone with his tooth brush sticking out from between his lips. The phone beeps to end the message and it takes a second before he laughs, holding a hand out to steady himself against the wall. 

He’s still grinning stupidly when he taps in a message for Merlin. 

_Goodnight, lush. ;)_

***

Arthur spills coffee on his fifth tie when a message from Gwen ticks in during a ridiculously boring meeting about budgets.

_Merlin made me buy a hamster cage._

Two seconds later there’s another one on his screen.

_I don’t have a hamster._

He bites his lip, his cheeks puffing out in an attempt to keep his laughter in. The guy to his right – George – looks at him oddly and Arthur coughs awkwardly, brushing at the coffee stain on his tie.

_I’m now the proud owner of a hamster named Snuffles. If I live in a zoo when you get back I will train them all to eat you._

The men in suits look very disapproving when he giggles helplessly into his fist.

***

“Hey, Morgs, what’s up?” he says, holding the phone in place with his shoulder as he tightens the knot on the sixth tie.

“I’m horny.”

He nearly drops the phone, catching it just in time before it slides down his chest. 

“Did _not_ need to know that.”

“Well, it’s your fault,” Morgana says sullenly. 

“What on earth is wrong with you? That’s the most disturbing thing you’ve ever said to me and that includes when you told me you remember your own birth in detail.”

“No, Jesus Christ, Arthur. I mean your darling boyfriend is pussy-blocking me.” 

Arthur stares at himself in the mirror and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“You’ll have to elaborate,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. 

“What is there to say? Your boyfriend is over here baking scones with Freya and they’ve been baking since Gwen dropped him off here yesterday saying she’s got her hands full with some hamster. It’s Saturday. I want to have sex with my girlfriend.”

“It’s only 8,” Arthur says, frowning down at his watch. 

“No kidding.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do about it, exactly. Does Freya want him to leave?”

Morgana makes a buzzer sound that Arthur isn’t entirely sure the human body should be able to make. “Wrong answer. I’m sending him back to your flat and you’ll go home. The last day over there is just back-scratching anyway. Don’t think I don’t know how that shit works.”

He doesn’t say anything because if he’s honest about it he’s considered it already. But it’s only because Merlin’s omelettes are so much better than the ones at the hotel. 

“You two are _ridiculous_ ,” Morgana says, hissing into the phone, her voice lowered. He can hear Freya chatting in the background. “As if you’re not going stir crazy over there as well. And this whole thing could’ve been avoided if you both just said ‘hey, I miss you, let’s wank together over the phone’ instead of trying to act all cool like two giant gits.”

“Oh my god,” Arthur says so loudly that it echoes through the bathroom. “Will you solemnly promise to never say the word wank again in my presence if I go home?”

“Yes.”

Just before he hangs up he hears her mutter “Wanker.”

***

“Delivery for Arthur Pendragon!” Morgana yells into the flat about five minutes after he’s gotten through the door.

Arthur had just thrown his jacket over the back of the armchair and rolled up his sleeves, ready to fall down onto the couch and sleep until Merlin showed up, but now Merlin’s there, his eyes widening as he spots Arthur in the living room. 

“You’re home,” he blurts, his hands burrowing into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Left early.” Arthur smiles crookedly. “Miss me?”

Merlin scrunches up his nose in a grimace that looks so ridiculous that Arthur nearly bursts out laughing. “No,” he says, drawing out the last syllable until he has to bite down on his tongue to force it to end. 

“Oh... _my god_ ,” Morgana exclaims and slams the door closed as she leaves. 

The blush in Merlin’s cheeks does embarrassing things to Arthur’s stomach and it’s probably right there that Arthur realises how fucked he really is. Two months or not, he truly doesn’t even care if it’s stupid and their friends think they’ve both gone around the bend.

“Ah, I was just asking because you tried to drown Gwaine’s liver in alcohol and Gwaine’s liver is doing bad enough without you, I’ll have you know.” He presses his lips together, trying not to grin like an idiot as his eyes follow the line of Merlin’s neck. “Gwen’s starting a zoo. Also, my sister is stuffed full of baked goods and starved on sex, apparently.”

Merlin ducks his head and nibbles at his lower lip, the blush spreading to the tip of his ears and Arthur wants to kiss them. 

“I might be insane,” Merlin admits and Arthur recognises the nervousness in his voice for what it is. He’s felt the insecurity too, wondering if he’s the only one who can’t breathe properly anymore.

“Probably.” Arthur moves closer and cups Merlin’s neck, his fingers brushing into his hair. He smiles crookedly at Merlin, swallowing down his own nerves. “But so am I because I think I slept with my finger next to the speed dial.”

Merlin looks up and laughs, reaching out to rest his hand at Arthur’s waist. “ _Two_ months.”

“I don’t even care,” Arthur says before Merlin can even finish. He looks at him intently and breathes deeply. “I missed you.”

The smile he gets in return is beaming and Merlin loops both arms around Arthur, pulling himself close. 

“We might have to adopt Snuffles,” Merlin says into Arthur’s shoulder. 

Arthur shakes with laughter. “That would probably be the right thing to do.”

Leaning in, Arthur tilts Merlin’s head back and kisses him softly, pressing small kisses to his lips until Merlin’s mouth opens under his. It turns messy and a little desperate. Arthur groans into it, pressing closer and the kiss is sloppy until Merlin cups his jaw and takes control, licking softly into Arthur’s mouth. 

“I haven’t used the seventh tie,” Arthur mutters against the corner of his lips and Merlin goes boneless against him. 

This is why ties were made, Arthur decides, as he sees the way it contrasts against the skin of Merlin’s wrists. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” Merlin says when Arthur fucks him deeply, his back arching as his fingers wrap around the tie that keeps his hands together.


End file.
